


the place my life begins

by loversinfiniteness



Series: gather ye rosebuds [1]
Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, I've butchered their backstories and present to you the bony leftovers, Wholesome vibes, featuring the whole gang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23496694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loversinfiniteness/pseuds/loversinfiniteness
Summary: It comes out on their third day of lunch together that Jane's dad was murdered by a serial killer — whom, by the way, is still on the loose."What?" says Rigsby, the first to break the silence. "How are you — " He stops, probably realising that what he was going to say wasn't socially acceptable.Jane doesn't care. "How am I alive?" he asks calmly. He shrugs. "Red John wasn't after me.""Well, maybe not," says Lisbon, "but you could've been a witness!" She knew his dad had been murdered, but the thought of being murdered by a serial killer is so much more terrifying than being murdered by someone ordinary. Her eyes widen and she looks around, before leaning in to whisper, "You might be wanted!""Relax," says Jane, as if he hasn't just implied that his life is in grave danger. "I didn't see anything. It was a very well-planned murder."
Relationships: Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon, Wayne Rigsby/Grace Van Pelt
Series: gather ye rosebuds [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1690651
Comments: 13
Kudos: 63





	the place my life begins

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 of my 'quarantine posting all the old fics that have been languishing in my unpublished folder'. Title from Westlife's 'Flying Without Wings', an absolute banger that I'll defend my love of until the end.

Mr Minelli corners Lisbon before school starts, and immediately she knows that today she will be carrying out a duty that ought to have been sorted out weeks in advance. Because Lisbon is always in early, she can't even pretend that she has somewhere to dash off. Nobody needs to dash off to anywhere at a quarter past seven.

"Lisbon!" he says, knowing full well that he's trapped her in conversation. He strides down the corridor. Lisbon, who was on the verge of ducking into the library, turns around and smiles politely. She might as well take defeat with grace.

"Mr Minelli," she says. "Good morning." 

"Yes, yes, whatever," he says. Lisbon blinks. "Listen, I need you to show around a new student this morning. Help him settle in, answer his questions so I don't have to. You know." 

"I — sure," says Lisbon. She waits for more explanation, which does not come. "Isn't midway through senior year a weird time for someone to be transferring?" 

"He's not transferring," says Minelli. "He's never been to high school." 

Lisbon pauses. "Is he Amish?" 

Minelli narrows his eyes. "You think you're funny." 

"Not at all, sir." 

"Hmph." He straightens his collar. "Well, no. He's never been to high school. Carnival background, moved around a lot, unstable life."

"OK," said Lisbon, processing the revelations with remarkable calm. "So why now?" 

"His father was murdered, the police got involved, legal stuff happened and his guardian contacted us."

Lisbon blinks. Once. Twice. Minelli's face doesn't change. 

"Poor guy," she says. 

"Try and remember that when you're talking to him," says Minelli, and pats Lisbon's shoulder. "Remember. Principal Bertram's office, quarter to eight."

Lisbon nods. It's only after Minelli leaves that she realises she doesn't even know the new guy's name.

* * *

"A new guy?" says Rigsby. "Now?"

"Yep," says Lisbon. They're in homeroom and Minelli hasn't shown up, so anarchy has basically descended. Someone is playing Norwegian death metal very loudly. "But he's not a transfer. Apparently he's never been to high school before? He's from the carnival, whatever that's supposed to imply." 

"Like my cousin Yolanda," says Van Pelt sagely. 

All three of them, including Cho, turn to stare at her. 

"What?" she says. "I've got a big family." 

"I thought carnival was kind of a whole-family deal," says Rigsby. "You're in because your family's in." 

Van Pelt shrugs. "Yolanda's special," she says. "Kind of a black sheep. I think it was her stepson who got her into it." 

"Anyway," says Lisbon, checking her phone and seeing that the time is nigh. "I have to go now." She slings her bag over her shoulder and waves as she ducks out. "See you guys later." 

She heads for Bertram's office, knocks and waits for a "come in!" before she enters. 

"Ah, Teresa Lisbon," says Bertram. He stands up. "Patrick Jane, this is Teresa Lisbon. Lisbon, Jane." 

"Hi," says Lisbon, who decided on her way to the office that a handshake for the new guy would be weirdly formal. As per her decision, she gives him a nod and a smile. 

Jane has artfully messy blond hair, which is kind of a thing for her. He's wearing a light pink linen shirt unbuttoned too low and dark jeans with white sneakers. It's quite a look. 

"Hi," says Jane, waving despite the fact they're within speaking distance. He smiles at her with genuine warmth. She finds herself beginning to smile back. 

Bertram interrupts their moment. "Lisbon will show you around. After that, she'll bring you back here, and we'll go over your test results." 

"OK," says Jane. He picks up his bag — a knitted, purple sack that doesn't fail to draw the eye, or raise an eyebrow. 

"Great," says Lisbon, still eyeing the bag, and not knowing if she expected anything less from a guy her age who's never been to high school and wears pink linen shirts. "Let's go." 

She's finished describing all the classrooms along the corridor of the principal's office before Jane speaks. 

"Can I ask a question?" 

"Sure," she says, relieved that he's finally volunteered to say something. Maybe she's been too full-on; she doesn't want to freak him out. If he's never been to high school, this is probably terrifying. "Anything." 

He gives her a look that lasts a bit too long and she has the feeling that she's just been intensely scrutinised. "Why does everyone here get called by their surnames?" 

"Oh," says Lisbon. "Um, tradition, I guess. Principal Bertram was a student here, and back then, they called the students by their surnames. I guess it kind of stuck."

"Right," says Jane. He raises an eyebrow when he nods — she can't decide if it's disdain or irony. 

"But you don't have to be called Jane if you don't want," Lisbon says hurriedly. 

Jane gives her another strange look. "No, no, I want to fit in." 

She thinks it's kind of weird that he admits that sort of thing so readily. You won't fit in if you go around telling everyone you want it. The next thing he says is abrupt. "Why are you treading so carefully around me?" 

Now Lisbon regrets encouraging him to ask whatever he wants. "Because you're new here," she says. Obviously that's a lie, but she can hardly say she knows about his murdered father. They've only just met. 

"Nope," says Jane with easy confidence, popping the 'p'. "That's not it." 

"Fine," she says, and lies again. "It's because I know you've never been to high school before, and it can be a kind of scary place." 

He waves his hand. "Oh, I've been in scarier. But that's not it either, is it?"

Lisbon says nothing. 

"You're a terrible liar," he informs her. "Oh no, don't look so down about it. On the plus side, you'll always command people's trust." 

"I am not a terrible liar," Lisbon says. "I lie to my parents all the time. Dad definitely doesn't — " 

Too late, she remembers the fact that his dad was murdered. Her eyes widen. "Dammit, I didn't mean to — "

"Ah, that's what it is!" says Jane. He looks delighted. "Isn't it nice when things naturally reveal themselves?" 

"I'm so sorry," says Lisbon, treading in new emotional waters. "I didn't mean to remind you of your…"

"Dad," finishes Jane. "It's alright. He died two years ago." 

"What? But you're only starting high school now. And there's only… four months left."

"I was still with the carnival for two years after it happened," says Jane. "The police only found out about Dad when they were investigating Red John, the serial killer who did it." 

"Right," says Lisbon faintly. "But Minelli implied — "

"Oh, yeah, I told them it was a recent thing."

"Why?" 

"So they'd be nicer to me," he says. "My test results are bad — really terrible, actually. But if I say I'm grieving, they'll give me a free pass. It's not like I'm actually going to graduate. I just need to get through because my aunt insists I have to go as long as I live under her roof." 

Lisbon is torn between sympathy, confusion and outrage, and settles for the latter. "You can't lie about your father's death!" 

Jane shrugs. "Why not? He's already dead so he wouldn't mind. In fact, he'd probably be proud that I was using him to my advantage." 

Now Lisbon sees that Minelli's reluctance to talk to Jane was more than just his usual shirking of responsibilities. 

"You don't like me," Jane observes, as they pass the science labs. 

"What?" says Lisbon. "No! I mean… I don't know you."

Jane grins, and Lisbon feels a hair on her head slowly turn grey. "That seems fair," he says lightly. "I have been pretty annoying." 

"Yeah, you have," says Lisbon. "And — dammit, I haven't told you anything about the school." 

"No need to worry," says Jane, and taps his head. "I've got it all in here." 

"What?" 

"I have a system to help me remember everything I'll ever need to know," he says. Lisbon gives him a look of disbelief. "Don't believe me? Alright, I'll show you." He closes his eyes and holds up a performative hand. "When we met, you said 'hi,' nodded and smiled, and looked away very fast." 

Lisbon can feel herself blush and rebels against it. "How do I know you didn't just remember that to impress me?" 

Jane shrugs. "That too. But I'm not kidding: I remember everything you've said. Try me."

Lisbon raises an eyebrow and Jane shrugs. 

"Fine," she says, humouring him. "Whose classroom is on the left of Mrs Hightower's?" 

"Mr Li," says Jane promptly. 

Lisbon lifts her chin defiantly. 

"Who's in Room 113?" 

"Miss Singh." 

"Left of Mr Greene?"

"Madame Leblanc."

"Right of Mr Weston?" 

"Trick question, he's a Jane Austen character. Come on, that one was easy. I already told you that you're a terrible liar." 

Lisbon gapes at him. "How did you do that?" 

"Easy," says Jane. "Memory palace." 

"You're kidding," says Lisbon. "Like on _Sherlock_?" 

"It really works," says Jane. "The idea's been around for centuries." 

"Huh," says Lisbon, momentarily stumped. Then she finds a retort. "So why did you do so badly in your test?" 

"Oh," says Jane. "That. I don't like tests."

Lisbon rolls her eyes. "No one does, except Cho — he's one of my friends. Maybe you just dislike them because you're bad at them."

She tries not to feel probed when Jane gives her another pensive look that lasts too long. 

"An interesting theory, Lisbon," he says, looking away. She realises it's the first time he's said her name. "But wrong. I don't like tests because there's too many rules." 

"That's the point," she says, unimpressed. "They're testing how good you are at following rules." 

"Well, then they know I'm not very good," says Jane. They turn around the corner to the gym. "I don't want to talk about me. Can we talk about something else? Let's talk about you." 

Lisbon blinks. "Me?" 

"Yeah. Come on, Lisbon. Tell me about you." 

"Um," says Lisbon. "Well, I have three brothers." 

Jane nods. "Two older, one younger?" 

Lisbon stares at him. "OK, how did you know?"

He waves a hand. "Oh, just a few behavioural giveaways." 

She dismisses the part of her brain that says he does actually have superpowers, and narrows her eyes suspiciously. 

"Fine." He sighs. "I was trying to retain an air of mystery, but fine. I asked Bertram about you." 

Lisbon feels her mouth curve into a smile. "I don't think you're as mysterious as you want people to think," she says. "You've already told me about your memory trick and we've barely met." 

"Ah," says Jane. "But you, Lisbon, have an air of honesty about you that is quite inspiring. People want to tell you things, don't they?" 

"Sure," says Lisbon doubtfully. "But I didn't think that would include you too." 

"Why wouldn't it?" asks Jane. 

Lisbon doesn't know what to say. He's strangely honest for someone so manipulative. 

She sees the principal's office at the end of the corridor and feels kind of reluctant to get there, because then their conversation will have to end.

"Hey," she says, slowing her step. "Do you want to sit with us at lunch?"

Jane's face is one of reservations. "Who's us?" he asks. 

Lisbon doesn't really think he has enough options to support his being choosy, but she tells him anyway. "Rigsby, Cho, Van Pelt. We're usually next to the far windows." 

"Alright," he says. "Sure. Thanks." 

"You're welcome," she says. Bertram's office is drawing closer. "See you later, Jane. It was nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," he says. "I look forward to lunch." 

She leaves before she has time to overthink her parting words and comes back to homeroom, where announcements have finished and everyone's talking. 

"Hey," says Rigsby, offering her his packet of Starbursts. "So what's new guy like?" 

Lisbon frowns and takes one. "Difficult to say. You'd have to see for yourself."

"Hmm," says Van Pelt. "Cute?" 

Rigsby stammers out a few syllables and then he and Van Pelt get distracted by the dance of their not-relationship. But even though he and Van Pelt don't, Cho does see the blush that spreads across Lisbon's cheeks. 

"Maybe," says Lisbon, trying desperately to affect an air of cool. "It depends on your type." 

"So he's blond then," says Cho. 

Rigsby and Van Pelt laugh. Lisbon gives Cho a tight-lipped smile and is thankfully saved by the bell.

"By the way, save him a seat at lunch!" she says, and escapes her disloyal friends. 

* * *

She sees Jane next at the fateful lunch hour, when he slides into the seat on her left that Van Pelt usually sits in. 

"Hi," she says. Cho and Rigsby are giving Jane strange looks. "Jane, this is Kimball Cho and Wayne Rigsby. Cho, Rigsby, this is Patrick Jane." 

Jane looks up from his ketchup. "Oh, hi. Lisbon's told me about you." 

Nods and greetings are exchanged. Lisbon judges that Jane hasn't made himself immediately welcome to them. Her suspicions are confirmed when Rigsby tells Jane that he's in Van Pelt's usual spot. 

Jane looks surprised. "Here? Well, luckily now she'll have to sit next to you." 

Cho actually cracks a smile at that. "Neat." 

As if on cue, Van Pelt arrives. "Hey, guys." She blinks at Jane being in her usual spot, but recovers quickly and sits next to Rigsby instead. Rigsby blushes. 

Lisbon repeats the introductions. "Van Pelt, this is Patrick Jane. Jane, Grace Van Pelt." 

"Hi," says Jane. "You look… too young to be in senior year." 

"Grace skipped two grades," Rigsby informs him. 

Sometimes, Lisbon wonders if it's possible for Rigsby to be any more obvious. She's never said anything about it though, and neither has Cho. 

Of course, Jane does.

"Is that the reason why you two aren't together?" he asks, in his typically delicate manner.

Rigsby chokes on his water. Van Pelt looks like a deer caught in headlights. Cho offers the faintest hint of a smile and Lisbon wonders if it's appropriate to tell someone you barely know to stop talking. 

Jane raises his eyebrows at the silence. "Well, it's obvious, isn't it? You're clearly attracted to him, he's clearly besotted with you." He shrugs. "I think you should go for it."

"OK," says Lisbon, seeing the bewildered expressions on Van Pelt and Rigsby's faces. "Now that things are incredibly awkward, let's move on." 

Jane shrugs and eats his peas. "Just trying to help." 

"Yeah, well, you're not," says Lisbon, a bit too aggressively. She immediately feels bad and changes the subject. "So what did Principal Bertram talk to you about?" 

"Oh, you know," says Jane. "My poor academic prospects. But it's really not as bad as he was making it out to be. I did go to middle school, you know." 

"Congratulations," says Cho. 

Jane's returning smile holds no hint of malice. Lisbon thinks, absurdly, that the two of them might actually get along very well. 

Jane turns to her. "By the way, I'm your new lab partner." 

Lisbon widens her eyes. "Me?" 

"Yep," says Jane. "Don't worry about Bosco; he's got Wainwright now." 

Lisbon stares at him. Her sympathy for his dead father thing has been waning ever since she began to suspect that he was a sociopath, and now she's almost angry. The guy has gone and changed her perfectly decent working arrangement based on a whim. She did not sign up to this when she agreed to give him a tour of the school. 

"Why couldn't you go with Wainwright?" she asks. 

"Well, I could have," says Jane, rolling his eyes, "but I said I wanted you." 

Van Pelt winks at her, which doesn't help her temper. 

"I see," says Lisbon testily. "Thanks for consulting me." 

The sarcasm is either lost on or ignored by Jane because he checks his watch: a flashy, gold thing that's a performance in itself. "I have to go," he says, and picks up his tray. "Principal Bertram's expecting me. It was nice meeting you all." 

"Nice to meet you too," they say, except Lisbon who settles for a thin smile. 

"He likes you," says Van Pelt, when Jane is gone. "And he isn't scared of you either, so good for him." 

"I am not scary!" Lisbon protests. 

"Just a little bit," says Van Pelt. Lisbon rolls her eyes. This is a conversation they've had many times. 

"He does," says Cho, in response to Lisbon also not asking for his opinion. "The lab partner thing was lame though." 

Lisbon sighs. "Anything to add, Rigs?" 

Rigsby looks confused. "This is a lot to assume from one conversation." 

Lisbon rolls her eyes. "Guys, look, he doesn't _like_ me. He's just latching onto me because I'm the first person he talked to." 

"If you see it that way," Van Pelt says lightly. Everyone immediately drops the subject and Rigsby begins talking about a movie he watched last night. Lisbon narrows her eyes at her friends and squeezes some more ketchup onto her chips, determined not to think about what her idiot friends were saying. 

* * *

Chemistry class isn't as much of a disaster as Lisbon was expecting it to be, but by no means does that mean it goes well. 

Firstly, Jane has zero chemistry knowledge. Lisbon supposes it isn't really the kind of thing you can pick up from travelling as a part of a carnival, but seriously. He might've read some textbooks. 

"Now you pour the acid and indicator in the conical flask," she says patiently. Jane manages this task without great catastrophe. "Great!" says Lisbon. She feels like she's encouraging a child. 

"Why not the alkali?" asks Jane. 

He's just learnt what acids and alkalis are. She supposes he's eager to broaden his knowledge. 

"I don't know," she says, shrugging. "Because that's what the instructions say." 

"Hmm," says Jane. Clearly he's going to wrestle with the question later. "OK. Now what?" 

"Now you fill up the burette with alkali," says Lisbon. Jane manages this without too much issue and even uses the funnel. "That's it. Now run the tap and stop when there's a colour change." 

"Running, running… ah! There!" He closes the tap as the solution turns purple. 

"Perfect!" says Lisbon wearily. She reads the number off the burette. "So we need approximately 25 cm³ of alkali to neutralise the acid. I'll wash out the conical flask, you fill up the burette again." 

"Again?" says Jane. "Didn't we just do it?"

"Yes," Lisbon says patiently, "but we didn't do it accurately. And you can't just do something once; you need repeats." She can't believe she has to explain the scientific method to Jane. 

"How many times do we need to do it?" 

"Three," says Lisbon. 

"Why three?" 

"I don't know," says Lisbon. She pauses. "It's a magic number." 

Jane doesn't seem to understand her reference. "Right," he says. "So can I put the alkali in first this time?" 

Lisbon doesn't reply because she sees Hightower coming their way. Jane somehow realises the same thing and promptly shuts up. 

"Lisbon, Jane," says Mrs Hightower, stopping by their desks. "I hope you've been made to feel welcome, Jane." 

"Very welcome," says Jane. "No social problems here."

Mrs Hightower nods and looks at their equipment set-up. "Are there any chemistry problems?" 

"Not at all," says Lisbon smoothly. "Just explaining titrations to Jane." 

"She's doing a very good job," says Jane. "I understand everything I've asked her." 

Lisbon continues to smile. Hightower nods and leaves them for the glassware crisis occurring on the other side of the room. 

Lisbon's smile disappears. "That was a lie," she says. "You barely understand anything." 

"That is true," says Jane. "But clearly you want to impress her, so I helped you out." 

"By lying to her face? How is that supposed to make me look good?" 

"Well, she doesn't know I was lying," defends Jane, as if he's actually in the right in this situation. 

Lisbon sees people start to turn around, so she lowers her voice. "She might when you do horribly in tests!" 

He puts his hands up. "Hey, who said I would do horribly in tests?" She gives him a look. "OK, so I _might_ have suggested that earlier. But I won't, I promise. If it'll make you happy, I promise I'll study hard." He smiles, as if struck by a brilliant idea. "I'll get straight A's!" 

Lisbon narrows her eyes. "I don't want you to study because you think it'll make me happy," she says. "I don't care how well you do in school." 

"Really," says Jane. He waves a test tube at her as he speaks. "I think you do." 

Lisbon wants to scream. "Fine. Whatever makes you happy. Study, or don't study. See if I care." 

"Ah, but you will," says Jane. "You'd love to be a good influence." 

"I _am_ a good influence." 

"On your brothers, sure," says Jane, "but I'm much more of a disaster than they are." 

Lisbon doesn't even want to know how he knows about her relationship with her brothers. "Stop psychoanalysing me." 

"It isn't psychoanalysis if you aren't telling me anything I can reinterpret. This is just regular analysis." 

If he doesn't stop talking, she will hit him with the beaker she is currently filling with acid. "What?" 

"I've read Freud," says Jane casually.

But apparently never a chemistry textbook. "Oh, that explains it then," she says airily. 

He smiles at her, as if anticipating her response. "Explains what?" 

"Why you're so annoying." It isn't her greatest line, but it'll do. She squeezes two drops of indicator into the acid and starts running the tap. "Are you going to help?" 

Jane immediately puts down his pen and begins swirling the conical flask. 

Huh. Maybe he _has_ learnt something from her.

* * *

Lisbon and Cho get the same bus home. Usually Cho reads a book and Lisbon does her homework, but today Cho is conversational. 

"Good day?" he asks.

"Eh," says Lisbon. "You?" 

"Fine," says Cho. "You had chemistry with Jane, right?"

"Yes," says Lisbon, tight-lipped. She won't volunteer information. If Cho wants to know something, he'll have to do a lot more than just bring up the subject. 

Then Cho gives her an expectant look, and Lisbon folds. 

"Fine," she says. "He's very irritating. He asks a lot of questions and says a lot of things normal people wouldn't say. I don't think he cares about any rules." 

"That must be difficult for you to handle," says Cho, straight-faced. 

Lisbon does slightly resent the implication that she's a rule-abiding goody two shoes, but has to admit it isn't entirely untrue. 

"Yeah, well," she says. "He can do what he likes. As long as he's a good lab partner, I don't care." 

Cho nods at this and the conversation seems to be over, which makes Lisbon uneasy. If Cho has somehow read into her words that she _likes_ Jane… which is ridiculous because she could never like anyone so annoying, but still… 

Attack is the best defence. "How's Summer?" she asks. Cho tutors a slightly edgy girl called Summer in English Lit. Lisbon has never seen them together, but if Van Pelt is right, something is going on between them. 

"Fine," says Cho. "She actually finished reading the book before the test this time." 

Lisbon feels she shouldn't push it, so she nods, satisfied with her deflection. 

Cho seems to understand that they have reached an impasse, and he opens his book. Lisbon puts in her earphones and begins on today's algebra problems.

* * *

It comes out on their third day of lunch together that Jane's dad was murdered by a _serial killer_ — who, by the way, is still on the loose. 

"What?" says Rigsby, the first to break the silence. "How are you — " He stops, probably realising that what he was going to say wasn't socially acceptable. 

Jane doesn't care. "How am I alive?" he asks calmly. He shrugs. "Red John wasn't after me." 

"Well, maybe not," says Lisbon, "but you could've been a witness!" She knew his dad had been murdered, but the thought of being murdered by a serial killer is so much more terrifying than being murdered by someone ordinary. Her eyes widen and she looks around, before leaning in to whisper, "You might be wanted!" 

"Relax," says Jane, as if he hasn't just implied that his life is in grave danger. "I didn't see anything. It was a very well-planned murder." 

Van Pelt looks slightly horrified and Rigsby takes advantage of the moment by grasping her hand as a comfort. Cho snorts quietly. 

Lisbon continues to interrogate Jane. "Are you _sure_ you don't know anything that might make you a target? Because if you do, you know you have to go into in witness protection." 

"Pretty sure," says Jane. "Come on, it's been two years. I think if I did know something, he would've got to me by now." 

"I can't believe you're being so casual about this!" says Lisbon. "Don't you realise he's still out there?" 

Jane shrugs. "Well, I've had a lot of time to get used to it." 

It is at this point that they get interrupted. "Whatcha talking about?" asks Luther Wainwright, the guy that could've been Jane's lab partner. _And what a lucky escape he made,_ thinks Lisbon. 

"Nothing," says Rigsby, a bit too quickly. 

Rigsby, like Lisbon, is a terrible liar. To make matters worse, Wainwright is something of a psychology prodigy. He narrows his eyes and looks around at the rest of the table. 

Jane sighs. Lisbon thinks maybe she should do something before Jane tells Wainwright and it eventually gets spread around the entire school, but she's too late. "My father was murdered by a serial killer." 

"Your father was — _what_?" 

Jane gives the rest of the table a look. "Murdered by a serial killer." He smiles. "But two years later and I'm still here." 

"Oh my God," says Wainwright. Then he pauses. "Who?" 

Jane seems to appreciate the interest, which Lisbon doesn't find at all worrying. "Red John," he says. "Usually he only kills women, but Dad was an exception." 

"Interesting," says Wainwright, looking as if all his birthdays have come at once. "Do you anything else about him? What made him this — "

" _Luther_ ," says Van Pelt, aghast. Wainwright is better friends with Van Pelt than he is with the rest of them, as they've bonded over skipping grades and being consequently younger than everyone else. Van Pelt's tone has its effect as Wainwright looks slightly abashed. 

"No, no, it's fine," says Jane. "I know he only cares about the psychology of it all." 

"Well, can you tell him another time?" asks Rigsby. "You're putting me off my food." 

Rigsby and Wainwright don't really like each other, for obvious reasons. 

"Let's change the topic," says Lisbon, falling back on her role in the group as conversation interventionist. "Did anyone watch the game last night?" 

This works very well as a distraction: Rigsby, Van Pelt and Lisbon all have a moderate interest in baseball, Wainwright leaves, and nobody mentions Jane's brush with a _serial killer_ for the rest of the day. Lisbon watches him, though, and she thinks he's acting more OK than he really is — which is stupid, of course. She's only known the guy for three days. They're hardly close enough for her to be able to read him so easily. 

Still, she says something about it to him when they're at their lockers. "I'm not sticking my head in your business," she says, pretending to focus on shoving books into her bag, "but you know if you ever need to, we can talk, right?" 

He smiles at her. "I know. Thanks, Lisbon." 

She smiles back and that's the end of that, for now.

* * *

Weeks go by and Jane settles into their group of friends with much less calamity than Lisbon had originally imagined. He hasn't mentioned his dad to her at all, which is fine, obviously. Her offer to talk still stands. 

But she's curious. And, although she won't admit it, a little scared for him. He's her friend and she cares about him, and she doesn't exactly feel comfortable with the fact that he's had a close brush with a serial killer they know barely anything about. So one day after school when she's not got that much work to do, she opens up an incognito tab and searches up serial killers. More specially, she searches up Red John. 

She finds out quite a lot. He's been active for about ten years, so there's a considerable amount of information about him available, including what appears to be an anti-fan blog. She finds articles about his other victims — all women, as she remembers Jane mentioning. She also finds articles about Jane's dad, which feel weird to read, especially when they mention the son who's been living 'without him for two years'. Lisbon surmises that Jane's dad's body must've been hidden for those two years and finally discovered, which led to Jane being sent to school and living with a distant aunt who's never been in the carnival business. 

She wonders if it's hard for him, and realises that of course it must be. Not only has he lost his father, but he's been torn away from the only people and life he's ever known. And, to make matters worse, he's being forced into high school. 

Before she entirely knows what she's doing, she's typing out a text. 

**Message sent at 17:42**

**Lisbon:** Hey, do you want to come over for dinner tonight? 

**Jane:** Lisbon, I'm flattered

 **Jane:** What's brought on this sudden desire to see me??

 **Jane:** Also can you promise that there won't be pea soup

 **Lisbon:** Shut up. Or I can come over to yours? 

**Lisbon:** And yes, there won't be any pea soup?

 **Jane:** Yours is fine

 **Jane:** Can't wait to meet all the Lisbons!!

Lisbon sends him her address and puts down her phone before dashing downstairs. "I've invited a friend over for dinner!" she calls, ducking her head into the kitchen. 

She's only talking to her mother, but her brother Tommy hears too. He sidles into the kitchen to disrupt the conversation. 

"That's nice, Reese," says her mother. "Which friend?" 

There's no use getting round it. Tommy thinks every boy Lisbon knows is her boyfriend.

"Patrick Jane," says Lisbon, in the lightest tone she can manage. "He's the new guy. I mentioned him when he joined school last month." 

"Oooh," says Tommy. "We're meeting Reese's boyfriend!"

Lisbon punches his shoulder.

* * *

Jane has no idea why Lisbon's suddenly decided to invite him to her house for dinner, but any excuse to get away from Aunt Cathy and her attempts to exorcise him is a good one. He adds in the fact that Lisbon is Catholic and Aunt Cathy is all but shoving him out the door. 

He's known how to drive since he was thirteen, so he takes Aunt Cathy's car and arrives at Lisbon's house half an hour early. He hopes she won't mind. 

One of her brothers answers the door. 

"Jane," he says, staring him down from the same height. Jane decides he must be Tommy. 

"Tommy," he replies. 

He blinks. "How did you — anyway. Hey, Reese, your boyfriend is here!" 

Lisbon appears, rolling her eyes and manoeuvring Tommy away from the door. "He did that when Cho and Rigsby came around too," she tells Jane, as if to imply he shouldn't be pleased that someone suggested he was her boyfriend. "Hi, come in." 

Jane takes off his shoes and walks through the hallway. Lisbon's mother appears from the kitchen and welcomes Jane. 

"Hi, Mrs Lisbon," he says, with perfect manners and a winning smile. Lisbon turns sharply to look at him. He has never shown this side of himself to any other adult before.

"Please, call me Geraldine," she says, smiling. "I've heard a lot about you from Reese." 

Lisbon rolls her eyes. "She hasn't," she tells Jane. Jane smiles at the two of them and then Lisbon's mother excuses herself back to the kitchen. Jane and Lisbon go upstairs and they're about to go into her room when another brother appears. 

"Hey hey hey," says the brother, holding out an arm to block the door of Lisbon's room. Jane assumes this is Michael. "What do you think you're doing?" 

Lisbon sighs, with all the pains of a younger sister who suffers from this treatment on a regular basis. "Going into my room?" 

Michael motions to Jane. "With a _boy_?" 

Naturally, Lisbon doesn't back down. "Yes?" 

Jane feels more is being implied of him than is really appropriate. "Hey, don't worry, I'm not going to come onto your sister." 

Michael barks out a laugh. "And I should take your word for it?" 

"Er, yes?" 

It's at this point that Lisbon decides she's had enough, and pushes Michael away. "Drop the act, Mike. Jane is a friend." 

Michael gives up his protective older brother charade, albeit reluctantly, and they go into Lisbon's room. 

"You can sit here," says Lisbon, moving a pile of books off a chair. Jane sits down. 

"Sorry about him," she says. "And Tommy. And you haven't met Simon yet because he's at college, but he's a pain too."

"No, no, it's fine," he says. 

She nods, saying nothing. It immediately becomes awkward. _Of course it would be awkward; what was I thinking, inviting him over because I thought he'd be lonely…_

"Thanks for inviting me over," he says abruptly. "Aunt Cathy thinks you'd be good for me because you're Catholic and she thinks I have the devil in me." 

Lisbon laughs. "I know what she means." 

"Hey!" 

"I'm just saying, she has a point…"

The silence which follows is more comfortable than the last. 

"I just thought you'd be lonely," says Lisbon. "Living with a relative you barely know, being thrown into high school. I should've invited you round sooner." 

He smiles at her. "Thank you for thinking of me."

She shrugs. 

Because there's a silence, Jane's eyes are wandering around her room, and then he sees her laptop… which she hasn't closed, or on it changed the window, and is open on an article about Red John. 

Lisbon sees it the second he does and she slams down the lid, but it's too late. 

Neither of them say anything. 

"You were looking up Red John," Jane says after an agonising silence. 

"Yes," says Lisbon. "Yes, I was. I'm so sorry. But I wasn't trying to be invasive, I swear. I was just — I was curious, and worried." 

"I know," says Jane lightly, and Lisbon breathes a sigh of relief. "It's fine." 

She nods. 

"So, did you find out anything interesting?" he asks. 

She should be used to his unexpected reactions to things by now, but she does occasionally get whiplash from his abrupt mood swings. "Um," she says. "Probably not anything you don't already know." 

"Oh, I don't know very much at all," says Jane. "We didn't know who killed Dad when it happened, and it was only about a month ago that the police tracked us down and told us what happened. And I'm pretty sure Aunt Cathy has ways of checking browser history even after it's been deleted, so no. I don't know more than what the police told us." 

"Right," says Lisbon faintly. "Well, then. I've found eleven victims, including your dad." 

"Well, I know that," says Jane reproachfully. "Law enforcement officials aren't _that_ bad." 

… And Lisbon wants to hit him again. The guy has an uncanny way of getting under everyone's skin. "How am I supposed to know what you don't know?" she demands. 

Jane's response is to say: "Well, I don't know." 

"Alright," says Lisbon, breathing through the irritation. "We'll start from the beginning. What don't you know?" 

"I don't know why he did it," says Jane. 

Lisbon hmms. "Do serial killers really need a why?" 

Jane shuffles forward his chair so they're both sat in front of her laptop. "I think this incident does. He's only killed women before, and suddenly he kills a man? It doesn't make sense." 

"Yeah, I thought that too," says Lisbon. "No, it doesn't make sense. But didn't the police say anything about that?" 

"No, they just said he was another victim, probably randomly chosen. And it was difficult to investigate his murder because there were two years between it happening and between it being discovered. They only knew it was Dad because of his teeth." 

"Right," says Lisbon. Maybe she's got sociopathic tendencies, but instead of getting chills, she's getting interested. "So the big question is why. Do you remember anything about your dad from the time of the murder? Anything he said or did?" 

Jane shakes his head. "Nothing significant. I went through it with the police and it all amounted to nothing." 

"Right," says Lisbon, tapping her finger on the keyboard. "That's fine. Maybe they missed something. Maybe — "

"Dinner's ready!" comes her mother's voice.

They look at each other. "But food first?"

"Good idea." 

They go downstairs. Michael makes a big deal of whether he'll let Jane sit next to Lisbon or not, while Lisbon stands by with a bored expression. Eventually their mother comes into the dining room and tells Michael to stop being ridiculous. In the end, Jane is next to Lisbon, with Michael on her other side. 

"So, Patrick," says her mother. "How are you finding high school?" 

Jane has a forkful of carrots in his mouth, but manages to chew and swallow them quickly enough that it isn't awkward. "Good!" he says. "Lisbon's been, er, helping me around." 

"Has she now?" asks Michael with exaggerated interest. "Reese, you never told us — "

"Michael, stop it," says his mother. He does, but glares back at Lisbon. "That's good, Patrick," she says, turning back to Jane. "High school can be a rough place." 

"Oh, it's alright," says Jane. With his usual lack of tact, he says: "I've been in worse." 

There's a silence which Lisbon rushes to fill, lest anyone start to actually enquire about Jane's worse situations and he reveals the entirety of his dark past.

"I've got quite a good memory," says Jane modestly, once Lisbon has turned the conversation back to the petty horrors of high school. 

"Really?" says Tommy. "How good?" 

"Pretty good," says Jane. 

Lisbon raises her eyes to the heavens. She doesn't know why she didn't expect Jane would get in a testosterone-driven competition with her brothers. 

Michael asks, "Like, good enough to memorise a pack of cards?" 

Jane puts down his fork and Lisbon foresees her entire family, possibly minus Michael, in raptures over the wonders of a memory palace. "Sure," says Jane. 

Mrs Lisbon anticipates her son's next words. "After dinner," she says, with authority. 

Lisbon does like to see her brothers embarrassed, so she lays a scheme of her own. "I'll bet you each ten dollars that Jane'll be able to memorise more cards than you." 

Michael is physically incapable of resisting a challenge. "You're on, little sis." 

Tommy, who'd follow Michael into a live volcano, says the same. 

Lisbon winks at Jane, who smiles back. She tries not to read too much into it. 

After dinner, as promised, Jane, Michael and Tommy have a card memorising contest. Jane naturally manages the whole pack, whilst Michael falls short at eight cards and Tommy a surprisingly high thirteen. Jane explains his memory palace trick and Michael protests that he doesn't really owe his sister ten dollars, because she had insider knowledge. Their mother rules that Michael should've realised that before he promised her ten dollars, and that her daughter deserves the money. Michael follows Tommy in handing it over without much grace. 

"I should be leaving now," says Jane, after Lisbon triumphantly waves her ten dollar bills in the air and takes a photo of a pouting Tommy. 

"I'll walk you to the door," says Lisbon. 

Her family can't see them at the door so he takes a longer time putting on his shoes than is strictly necessary. 

"Thank you," he says, when he's done. "For tonight. You've saved me from another night of pea soup." 

Lisbon tries to smile easily. "It's no problem," she says. "I'm glad you had fun." 

"I like your family," he says. 

She grins. "Even Michael?" 

"Oh, of course. I won ten dollars off him." 

" _I_ won ten dollars off him," she corrects. "You just enabled me." 

"Exactly," he says. He motions between them and leans in very slightly to say, "We're partners, you and I." 

He has a conspiratorial smirk on his face and very briefly, she considers it. 

But she isn't sure: isn't sure of herself, or him. 

"Goodnight, Jane," she says. "I'll see you tomorrow." 

"Goodnight, Lisbon." She watches him go and get into his car before driving off, then goes back inside. 

Michael and Tommy are sat on the sofa. Michael is narrowing his eyes at her whilst Tommy stares at his phone. 

She adopts an irritated expression and marches over to stand over him. "What?" 

"What?" Tommy mimics, before returning his attention to his phone. 

"Shut up, Tommy," says Lisbon. "And you? What the hell is your problem?" 

"Hmm," says Michael. "Could it be — Reese — do you have a _crush_?" 

Lisbon wishes her voice wouldn't squeak when she says: "I do not!" 

"Your voice squeaked," says Tommy flatly. 

Lisbon glares at him. 

"Which means you're lying," Michael says lightly. 

"I do not like him!" Lisbon repeats, thankfully this time without the squeakiness. "What makes you think I do?" 

"Oh, just everything," says Michael, waving his hand around. "Your whole… you."

Lisbon doesn't know why she expected a more detailed answer from her brother, a teenage boy. 

"If it makes you feel better, he likes you too," Michael adds. 

"Great, thanks," says Lisbon. "Mr Analysis." It would be a loser's retreat if she left the room now, so she pretends to be interested in a book someone left lying on the coffee table. 

Michael pulls out his trump card when he shrugs and says, "Ask Mum if you don't believe me." Unfortunately for Michael, his trump card fails. Lisbon has had a lifetime of practice resisting her brothers' provocations. 

"Whatever," she says, that beautiful, multi-functional word, and shrugs it off. Forgets about it. For a while.

* * *

Lisbon has learnt to not dread chemistry class with Jane any more. She really wants to impress Hightower, which put her on edge for the first few lessons with Jane, but now that ten lessons have gone by and no catastrophe has occurred, she deems them risk-free. 

Of course, the one immediately afterwards is the lesson when a catastrophe occurs. 

It starts innocently enough. It's announced that this will be a practical lesson. Jane forgets to bring his lab coat and goggles and has to rush back to his locker, but Lisbon is lenient enough to not deem that a catastrophe, especially as it is in no way her fault and therefore impossible to pin the blame on her. 

The practical begins well enough. They're testing for ligands, which only involves a few fume cupboard chemicals. 

"Bosco hates me," Jane informs her as he records the colour change of an test tube. 

"Bosco?" asks Lisbon. "Why?" 

Jane raises an eyebrow at her. "You mean you really don't know?" 

Lisbon hates it when he asks that question. 

"Alright, fine," he says, and puts the test tube in the rack. "Obviously, I took his place." 

"As my lab partner," says Lisbon slowly. "This is a sacred position because…?" 

Jane snaps his fingers at her. "Exactly! This is a sacred position because he's in love with you." 

" _What_?" 

Jane shrugs. "He's in love with you; how could he not be, since you're all…" He makes a gesture with his hand that circles about her person. "You know," he finishes vaguely. 

Lisbon carries on pouring copper carbonate into the test tube. "No, I don't know," she says. She desperately hopes her cheeks aren't flaming and she forces her voice to sound unimpressed rather than flustered. "Could you be a little more specific?" 

"Eh," says Jane, which is his way of saying 'I could, but I don't want to'. Lisbon hates it. "Anyway, so now you know." 

Lisbon almost laughs. "No, I don't, because you're wrong." 

"I'm never wrong," says Jane seriously. He isn't even arrogant about it. It's what he truly believes, and Lisbon is loathe to admit that it usually is the truth. He's been eerily accurate about a lot of school gossip recently. 

Lisbon rolls her eyes anyway. "Bosco is not in love with me. I've known him for almost four years. You've known him — vaguely — for two months." 

"Yes, but I'm more observant than you," says Jane. This earns him a jab from her elbow. "Ow! Has anyone ever told you you have very bony elbows?" 

"My brothers," says Lisbon. "Multiple times." 

Jane seems slightly impressed by this and doesn't pursue his line of Bosco reasoning for a while. 

"Don't you see?" he says abruptly, minutes later. He points somewhere. 

Foolishly, Lisbon looks. Bosco waves at her and gets back to his work. 

"A wave," says Lisbon, unimpressed. "Is that meant to prove something?" 

Jane shrugs. "The evidence is all there. You just can't see it." 

Lisbon scoffs and gets back to work. When the lesson ends, though, she feels a curiosity caused by Jane's words. 

"Hey, Bosco," she says, joining him as they leave the lab. "What's been going on with you?" 

Bosco gives her a look that she wouldn't describe as nervous, but maybe a little off. 

"Not much," he says, nodding at nothing in particular. "You? How's working with Jane?" 

"Jane? Oh — " she shrugs. "Fine, I guess. I'm always a bit on edge, so it keeps me awake in lessons now." 

Bosco nods. "That's good," he says. 

Lisbon realises, belatedly, that she's just implied having Bosco as her lab partner was boring. 

"I'm going this way," he says, and motions to their left. 

"Ah," she replies. "See you later, then." 

He waves and goes off. 

Jane appears beside her moments later. "What did you find out?" 

Rolling her eyes, Lisbon stops by the water fountain to fill up her bottle. "Nothing," she says. "He's not pining for me, like you said." 

"He hides it very well," concedes Jane, which Lisbon sees as his way of admitting that she's right. "It was unlikely that you'd see it." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demands. 

He makes a face at her. "Well, you know." He makes another hand gesture that conveys nothing. "You're not very good at knowing how people feel about you." 

She finishes filling up her water bottle and screws the lid back on. "What?" She stuffs her bottle in her bag and starts walking. 

Jane catches up easily, because she is tiny and has the stride length of a small child. "You're not very good at knowing how people feel about you," he repeats, as if the problem was that she couldn't hear. "Take me, for instance. How do you think I feel about you?" 

"Oh, for God's sake," says Lisbon. "Seriously?"

"Seriously." 

She considers it. Briefly. 

"You could lie," she says. "If or when I get it right, you'll just lie and say I was wrong." 

"Lisbon!" he says. He sounds scandalised. "When have I ever lied to you?" 

Lisbon rolls her eyes at him. "I don't know. You probably get away with it all the time. Weren't you part of a con act before you left the carnival life?" 

This time it's Jane who stops walking, and annoyingly, Lisbon automatically stops with him. 

"You really think I'd do that to you?" he asks.

Lisbon laughs, because she's starting to feel uncomfortable. "Well, yeah," she says. "Not maliciously. But for convenience, or something." He still looks as if she's accused him of something horrible. "I don't mind!" she says. "As long as it's not a big thing." 

"Well, you should know that I don't," he says. "I don't lie to you. You're too honest and it would be unfair." 

Between being touched and being sarcastic, Lisbon decides to be sarcastic, because it's easier. "Thanks," she says, and starts walking again. They're going to be late for their free period, and she is _not_ prepared to lose the good spot in the computer room again. 

"So that's what you honestly think of me," says Jane. "Huh. Thanks for the insight. It was kind of illuminating, kind of brutal." 

"Jane," sighs Lisbon. "You're taking this to heart too much. What did you want me to say? That I'm secretly in love with you?" 

"Well, ideally, yeah," says Jane, shrugging. 

Lisbon thwacks his shoulder and they make it into the computer room just in time, because Lisbon lunges for her favourite seat and gets it, much to the annoyance of one Erica Flynn. 

Jane apologises for her. "Sorry, she was quicker."

* * *

Van Pelt is the first one to seriously say something about it, although Jane strongly suspects Cho has known since the beginning. 

Lisbon is at the dentist today, so it's just the four of them eating lunch together. Jane cuts his pizza into manageable bites whilst Cho drinks his carton of chocolate milk dispassionately. Van Pelt and Rigsby appear to be eating lunch and at the same time, holding hands. 

"When is Lisbon coming back?" asks Jane. 

"At one," says Van Pelt. She gives him a weird look. "Are you OK?" 

Jane smiles his easy smile. "Of course," he says. "Never better," he adds, in a more convincing tone. 

"Right," says Van Pelt. She and Cho exchange a look, which incidentally is the precise moment Jane realises he's fucked. 

Van Pelt summons up all her courage to deliver this sentence. "Because we thought…" she pauses. Looks around nervously. 

Cho takes up the baton. "You like Lisbon," he says, making unblinking eye contact. "When she's gone, you miss her." 

Jane chooses not to say anything and risk the burden of silence, but it turns out he doesn't need to, because there's good old Rigsby, always slow on the uptake. " _What_?" he says, looking at his girlfriend and best friend, and then at Jane. "You — really? _Lisbon_?" 

Jane doesn't think there's any point in hiding it now, when even Rigsby knows. "Yes," he says, making a big show of shrugging as if to imply it isn't a big deal at all. "I may… like Lisbon." 

Van Pelt looks delighted. "Does she know?" 

"No, she doesn't," says Jane, "and you cannot tell her." 

Van Pelt shrugs. "That's fine, we won't. Cho and I have been keeping it to ourselves for weeks." 

"Oh, good," says Jane. "Carry on doing that." 

All in all, he thinks he does a remarkably good job of acting calm, when in reality he's terrified. Of what, he doesn't know, but he just knows he is. 

* * *

Lisbon knows it should be something she talks to Van Pelt or maybe even Cho about, but she doesn't. 

In her defence, she has horrible timing. She realises it the day before Jane's surprise party, when Van Pelt jokingly mentions inviting Erica and Lisbon reacts strongly. Too strongly. 

"I think he likes her," Van Pelt had said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. 

"No, he doesn't," Lisbon had retorted. 

Van Pelt had raised a delicate eyebrow. "All right, I didn't know you cared." And Lisbon had realised that she didn't know she cared either. 

But anyway. It's taken her four months to realise she might be into Jane, and now that the penny has finally dropped, she has to do something. 

The party's tomorrow evening, at her house. She figures she'll tell him when it's winding down, so if he feels the same way, they won't have any distractions around them, and if he doesn't, he can escape. 

* * *

They're having pizza at a restaurant, which Jane thinks is his birthday present from the gang. All of them except Cho have been having trouble keeping it — the slumber party — a secret, and unfortunately Cho is out with Summer. So it's just Jane, an expert lie detector, and three of his lying friends. 

"I can't believe Cho likes pineapple on pizza," comments Rigsby. "It's so obviously gross."

"I know, right?" Lisbon says weakly. 

Nobody knows whether to revive the conversation or let it die, so it dies by default and a silence takes hold. Jane looks between them. Opens his mouth. 

Van Pelt jumps in. "Hey, did I tell you guys about what happened to Yolanda?" 

A chorus of "no, tell us!" follows, so Van Pelt launches into a story about her psychic cousin that Lisbon is pretty sure is at least 80% made up on the spot. Van Pelt perseveres valiantly though, and makes it through to a point that could be deemed the end before abandoning Yolanda in their shared grandmother's cabin. 

Jane sweeps his gaze across the three of them, but mercifully says nothing. He knows they're keeping something from him; as well as being terrible liars, they're also his friends. But he also knows that they don't want him to know, and so he has the respect not to ask. 

They finish the pizzas. "What do you want to do now?" asks Lisbon. 

Jane shrugs. "How about a walk on the beach?" 

"Sure," says Lisbon, and they all pile into her blue truck. They drive to the beach, where Rigsby and Van Pelt immediately fall behind, leaving Jane and Lisbon to walk alone together. 

"OK, what's the secret?" asks Jane. 

Lisbon jumps. "What secret?" she squeaks. 

Jane gives her an unimpressed look. 

"I can't tell you," she says desperately. "That's why it's a secret." 

"Right," says Jane. "Well, I'll tell _you_ a secret." 

_Oh God,_ thinks Lisbon. _It's happening_. She tries to check that her hair looks good and satisfies herself that her bangs aren't completely out of shape. 

"OK," she says slowly. 

He turns to her so they stop walking, and he clasps her hand. "I want to say thank you," he says. "I don't think there's anyone else in the world who would have tolerated me like you did. Especially at the beginning." 

Her heart threatens to melt. "Jane…" she says. 

"I mean it, Lisbon," he says. "These few months have been the happiest of my life. So much of that is because of you. Thank you." 

* * *

They lure him to Lisbon's house easily enough. Lisbon says she has to pick something up at home before Jane is sent back under Aunt Cathy's dominion, and he goes along with it without asking any questions that ruin the charade. 

He steps through the door and hears: "Surprise!" 

He turns around to smile at her first, which makes Lisbon's heart swell in a way she knows is more than friendly. She quickly steps in to stand next to Grace, Rigsby and Cho, and they envelop each other in a group hug. 

"You didn't do a very good job of keeping this under wraps," says Jane, once they've broken apart and are all lying on various pieces of furniture in the living room. "But I like your ambition in trying to keep a secret from me." 

"We tried our best," says Grace. "But there were some tough moments." 

Rigsby laughs at that. "You did Cousin Yolanda so dirty for that one in the restaurant. A talking pigeon?" 

"Shut up," says Grace, and kisses him. 

Jane sees Lisbon widens her eyes at this, and resolves to make fun of her obliviousness later. 

"We've got movies, video games, board games…" says Lisbon, gesturing to the pile of stuff that's overflowing her coffee table. "We take slumber parties very seriously in this house." 

Jane smiles at her. "Where's the rest of the Lisbon family?" 

"Camping," says Lisbon. "For the whole weekend." 

Rigsby is already opening a bag of crisps. Cho and Grace give him judgemental looks so he offers some to them first, which Cho accepts. 

Jane feels an overwhelming burst of affection for his friends. "Thanks, guys," he says, which doesn't even begin to adequately express what he feels. He is without a doubt that he would be lonely and miserable without them. They have completely changed his life. 

Rigsby is cracking open a beer and Cho is already putting a DVD in, but by their gestures he knows they understand him. 

* * *

Hours later, Lisbon finds Jane in the bathroom. He's sat on the floor, leaning against the side of the bath and staring at the shower curtain opposite him. 

"Hi?" she says, hovering by the door. 

"Hi, Lisbon," says Jane. 

Jane doesn't drink, so Lisbon hasn't supplied alcohol for tonight. Now she's sort of wishing she'd had one of Michael's beers. It's a big risk to confess to someone you like them, an even bigger risk when they're your best friend and an even bigger one when it's at your house, so you effectively have nowhere to hide if things go south. 

Fuck it, she's going to do it anyway. She sits down next to him and briefly considers putting her head on his shoulder, but decides she'd actually have to be drunk to do that. Instead she settles for her bare arm against his and the strange intimacy of her enclosed upstairs bathroom. 

"Where are the others?" he asks.

"Playing _Just Dance_ ," says Lisbon. 

Jane nods. 

He turns to her. "Listen, Lisbon," he says. "I really meant what I said earlier." 

"I know you did," she says. "But, Jane…"

She trails off. Idly, she thinks the glaring overhead light of the bathroom can't be doing her any favours. 

"Lisbon," says Jane. 

"Yes?" 

"Rigsby gets really competitive over _Just Dance_ , right?" 

Lisbon has no idea where Jane's going with this, but she usually doesn't, so she just goes along with it. "Yes?" she says. 

"Good, so they'll all be distracted." Then it only takes a small movement for him to lean across and kiss her. 

* * *

Downstairs, Rigsby is demanding a rematch with Cho as Grace sits next to the telly recording their rendition of the dance routine to _Shake It Off_. 

* * *

They break apart because Lisbon's brain kicks back into gear. 

"What?" she says, breathing hard. Jane blinks and her eyes drop to his lips. Then immediately back to his eyes. 

Naturally, Jane grins. "Good kiss," he says. "Nice recovery, too." 

Lisbon hits his shoulder, for which Jane can't really blame her. He makes sure to keep looking at her; keep smiling, keep watching. He needs her to know how much he means this. 

"I'm going to college in the fall," she says slowly. 

Jane shrugs. "I have a car." 

She laughs, because she knew he'd say that. She knows him perfectly. 

"But — " she says. Stops. 

"But what?" asks Jane. He is as calm about this as is he about almost everything else in his life. "I love you, you love me. What else is there?" 

"Hey," says Lisbon, taking refuge in the safe act of bantering with him. "When did I say I loved you?" 

He shrugs. "You didn't need to say it. I could tell." 

"Oh, for the love of — how could you _tell_? And why didn't you mention it?" 

"Well, I didn't know if you wanted to do anything about it," says Jane. "I didn't want to make things — " he makes a face — "awkward." 

"You didn't want to make things awkward," repeats Lisbon, deadpan. "But you'll kiss me on my bathroom floor and tell me you love me?" 

"Oh, that," says Jane, as if 'that' wasn't one of the most important things he'll ever say. "Yeah, as you're so bad at knowing how people feel about you, that was always going to be a truth bomb. But let's look on the bright side; we're both on the same page now." 

But Lisbon is having a separate realisation of her own. "Oh, my god," she says. "That chemistry lesson when you told me Bosco had a thing for me — " 

"I told you he was in love with you," Jane corrects. 

" — and then you asked me to tell you what I thought you thought of me — "

"That was a little bit risky," Jane admits. "But I knew you wouldn't guess it right." 

Lisbon raises her head to the heavens. "You're driving me insane." 

Jane seems pleased by this. "Have you finished taking it in?" he asks, moments later. 

Lisbon's head snaps back. "Don't be condescending." 

He adopts an innocent expression. "I wouldn't dream of it." 

She smiles, and pulls his mouth back to hers. 

* * *

They eventually join their friends; whilst making out in the bathroom is an excellent way to spend their time, Lisbon gets worried that she's being a bad host and drags Jane downstairs with her. Cho, Rigsby and Grace have started another movie, which Jane insists they start again from the beginning so he can watch the whole thing. They grumpily comply, even though they've seen enough movies with Jane to know that he always insists on watching the whole thing. 

"Why did you even start it without us?" asks Lisbon. She is sitting next to Jane, but at a normal, friendly distance. She's pretty sure no one knows about them and it gives her a kind of thrill that she's keeping such a big secret from her friends. She'll tell them soon, of course, but for now it's nice to have something private. 

"Er," say Rigsby and Grace. 

Cho gives them a look of faint derision. "We thought you'd be up there a while," he says. 

"Cho!" says Grace. 

Lisbon stares at them blankly. "What?" 

Jane pipes up. "Oh, they all know that I'm in love with you." 

It does give her a thrill to hear him say that, but the thrill is overridden by shock. "You — what? When?" 

"You were at the dentist," says Grace, by way of explanation. She adds, in response to Lisbon's blank stare, "Jane was missing you. It was pretty cute." 

"Oh my god," says Lisbon. "Well, fine. We've all had to watch Van Pelt and Rigs, so I suppose this is only fair." 

"Not fair," says Rigsby in protest. "I've never even seen Cho with Summer." 

"She's picking me up in the morning," says Cho. 

Rigsby looks delighted. 

They watch two movies before the food starts running low and they decide to order pizza. Jane entwines his fingers with Lisbon's as she leans back and they listen to Rigsby as he tries to get Cho to talk about Summer. 

They fall asleep sometime in the middle of the third movie. Lisbon's elbow is digging into Jane's arm and he tries to move it, but can't quite manage without disturbing her, so he leaves it there and goes to sleep. 

* * *

The first to wake up is Jane, whose body clock is set to six, on account of Aunt Cathy's regulations. But he's eighteen now, he remembers with a smile. He can wake up any time, go anywhere he wants. 

And he wants to go wherever — Lisbon groans and yawns against his chest, interrupting his thought process. 

"Good morning," he says pleasantly. 

She makes a grumpy, indiscernible noise against his chest. _Of course_ , he thinks. _Of course she hates mornings._

The benefit, though, of having her face smushed against his body, is that she can't see the huge grin on his face. 

"Go back to sleep," he says in her ear. 

A grumbled sigh. "Don't tell me what to do." All in all, Jane considers this a good start to their relationship. The basic things haven't changed — and yet, it's all new and he's almost giddy with excitement. 

She doesn't move for another thirty seconds, but when finally she sits up Jane immediately nurses his arm, which he thinks might never feel sensation again.

She eyes him blearily. "What's wrong with your arm?" 

He shrugs. "Oh, you know. You slept on it." 

This seems to shock her. "Why didn't you move it?" 

He thinks the answer is rather obvious, but he tells her anyway. "I was being a good boyfriend," he says, in a slightly injured tone. He has suffered for her, and now she's asking him why he did it instead of accepting his sacrifice with grace. 

His reasoning backfires too. " _Boyfriend_?" 

"Uh, yeah? What did you want me to be, the unlabelled guy who visits you at college every week?" 

"Oh my god," says Lisbon, but Jane, who's very good at reading her meaning through her exasperated tone, knows that she's secretly very pleased. "I'm going to shower." 

"Have a good one!" calls Jane, as she leaves him. This has the unintended effect of waking up Grace and Cho. 

"What?" says Grace. She rubs her eyes and clears her throat. "What time is it?" 

"Quarter past ten," says Jane cheerfully. "Lisbon's in the bathroom, but luckily for you — " he nods towards Grace and Cho — "I am an excellent chef. How do eggs sound?" 

"Sorry, that was too many words," says Grace, yawning. "What did you say?" 

"Eggs sound good," says Cho. He punches Rigsby lightly in the shoulder. "Wake up, there's about to be food." 

Lisbon joins them fifteen minutes later. She goes to stand next to Jane and he hands her the first plate of eggs. 

Grace and Rigsby look between them and then exchange a look of their own. 

"So, how's it going with you two?" asks Rigsby in a tone Jane assumes is meant to be teasing. 

Lisbon gives Rigsby a terrifying look but says nothing. 

"Lisbon?" says Jane, flipping eggs. He nudges her side with his arm. 

"Fine," says Lisbon, pouring orange juice. She makes eye contact with the rest of their friends. "We're dating." 

"I'm her boyfriend," adds Jane, for clarification. He points at her too, just to make it extra clear. 

" _Nice_ ," says Rigsby. He's the type who, once happily shacked up, is only too glad to see others join him. 

"We want more details," says Grace. 

"Do we?" asks Cho. 

Jane is more than happy to fill in what Lisbon, judging from her sudden interest in her eggs, would rather not. "What do you want to know?" 

Grace seems surprised that Jane is so willing to share details, but Jane knows that Lisbon will have no problem stepping in if she doesn't like the questions. "Like… when did you know you liked her?" she asks.

"Oh, sometime during our first meeting," says Jane casually. 

Next to him, Lisbon makes an unimpressed sound. 

"What? I'm telling the truth!" he protests. His phone rings, saving him from the rest of this conversation. "Cho, man the eggs, will you?" He dashes out. 

The caller is Special Agent Bob Kirkland, who led the team handling the Red John case. 

"Hello?" says Jane. 

"Hello, is this Patrick Jane?" 

"Yes," says Jane. "What's this about?" 

"We just wanted to let you know that we found Red John," says Kirkland. "Yesterday afternoon. His real name is Timothy Quinn. He's given us a full confession and he's sitting in a cell now." 

"Oh," says Jane. He supposes he should say more to the news that they've caught his father's killer, but he finds he doesn't have many words. 

Kirkland continues. "He'll stand trial for life. We just thought you ought to know — being connected to the case, and all."

"Yes, of course," says Jane. "So why did he kill my father?" 

"Appears to have been a random occurrence," says Kirkland. "Your father was just in the wrong place at the wrong time." 

"What about his trend of only killing women?" asks Jane. "And then suddenly, my father?" 

"Maybe he fancied a change. Serial killers get bored easily. Sorry, Patrick," he says, and doesn't sound at all sorry. "Some things just never get answered." 

"OK," says Jane, after a brief pause. "Well, thank you for telling me. And for catching him." 

"Not a problem," says Kirkland. He pauses. "Have a good life, Patrick." 

Jane turns to see his friends through the half-opened door. Rigsby has his arm wrapped around Grace, who's adding ketchup to her eggs whilst Cho watches on with a look of judgement. And then there's Lisbon, smiling as she listens to Rigsby who's still talking about a plot hole in one of the films they watched last night. She makes eye contact with Jane and he feels like he's home. 

"I will, Agent," he says. "You too." 

He hangs up and comes back to the kitchen. 

"Who was that?" asks Lisbon. 

"Oh, um, Special Agent Kirkland. He handled the Red John case." 

"Oh," says Lisbon. "And?" 

Jane raises his eyebrows. "Apparently, they've caught him. His real name is Timothy Quinn. He's probably going to be imprisoned for life. 30 years, at least." 

"Huh," says Lisbon. 

Jane smiles. "Anyway. Who wants to go to the beach today?" 

Cho can't because he's hanging out with Summer and Grace and Rigsby have other plans. But Lisbon says she's free, so after everyone else leaves, they pack a bag and drive down to the beach. 

He kisses her at a red light which makes her flustered enough to slow down her reaction time, which leads to several cars behind them honking after the light turns green and they still haven't gone yet. They laugh and Jane sticks his middle finger up out the window at them. When they get there, they hold hands as they stroll across the beach and he's surprised when she accepts the ice cream he buys for her without any resistance. 

"I thought you'd insist on paying me back," he says. 

She snorts and takes out one of the ice cream's two Flakes. "No, you owe me every ice cream for the rest of eternity." 

"Oh, for the rest of eternity, huh?" 

"Shut up," she says, but she's smiling. 

They talk through what they're going to do next year. Lisbon's going to college in California, which makes things easier for them. Jane has no desire to go back to the carnival life, but he thinks he'll search for something that's tailored to his niche skill set and doesn't need a high school diploma. 

"You'll find something," says Lisbon. Jane knows she isn't just saying it for blind comfort. She really does believe in him. 

"Lisbon," says Jane. "You know that call I got from Agent Kirkland about Red John?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Something about it feels… off," he says. "I don't know what. But he said he couldn't find a connection to my father; says it was just a random murder." 

"But Red John only killed women before," says Lisbon. "What did Agent Kirkland have to say to that?"

"Exactly," says Jane. "He said that he must've just fancied a change." 

"Huh," says Lisbon. 

Jane smiles at her and takes the opportunity to steal her other Flake. She makes a face at him but lets him have it. 

"Anyway," says Jane. "It's probably nothing." 

"Probably," says Lisbon. 

There's doubt in both of their voices, of course, but what do they know? They're barely adults, just left high school, with no experience and no clue. And yet… 

"I'm glad I have you," says Jane. He's beginning to form a habit of dropping serious declarations into conversation without warning. He likes doing it, because it's fun to watch Lisbon at first get taken by surprise, and then see the slow smile spread across and warm up her face. 

"Of course," says Lisbon. She rushes to catch a bit of ice cream that threatens to spill down the side of the cone. "I love you," she adds. 

"Oh, good," says Jane. "I was wondering when you'd say that." 

"You were _wondering_ — right, I take it back."

He grins. "Uh-uh, too late." 

She narrows her eyes at him. "Don't make me regret it," she says, the idle threat hanging in the air between them. 

He snatches it up an instant later. "Of course not." He smiles with the usual mix of charm and tenderness he always shows her. "I'd never lie to you." 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! A Summer/Cho sequel is soon on its way.


End file.
